Vitaп Lampada

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1. Our Prayer of Thanks For the gladness here where the sun is shining at Evening on the weeds at the river, Our prayer of thanks. For the laughter of children who tumble barefooted and Bareheaded in the summer grass, Our prayer of thanks. For the sunset and the stars, the women and the white Arms that hold us, Our […]...
2. What the Ghost of the Gambler Said WHERE now the huts are empty, Where never a camp-fire glows, In an abandoned cañon, A Gambler’s Ghost arose. He muttered there, “The moon’s a sack Of dust.” His voice rose thin: “I wish I knew the miner-man. I’d play, and play to win. In every game in Cripple-creek Of old, when stakes were high, […]...
3. Colonel Martin I The Colonel went out sailing, He spoke with Turk and Jew, With Christian and with Infidel, For all tongues he knew. ‘O what’s a wifeless man?’ said he, And he came sailing home. He rose the latch and went upstairs And found an empty room. The Colonel went out sailing. II ‘I kept her […]...
4. Hero ‘Jack fell as he’d have wished,’ the Mother said, And folded up the letter that she’d read. ‘The Colonel writes so nicely.’ Something broke In the tired voice that quavered to a choke. She half looked up. ‘We mothers are so proud Of our dead soldiers.’ Then her face was bowed. Quietly the Brother Officer […]...
5. A Song of Autumn ‘WHERE shall we go for our garlands glad At the falling of the year, When the burnt-up banks are yellow and sad, When the boughs are yellow and sere? Where are the old ones that once we had, And when are the new ones near? What shall we do for our garlands glad At the […]...
6. A Requisition to the Queen Smiths Buildings No. 19 Patons Lane, Dundee. Sept the 6th. 1877. Most August! Empress of India, and of great Britain the Queen, I most humbly beg your pardon, hoping you will not think it mean That a poor poet that lives in Dundee, Would be so presumptous to write unto Thee Most lovely Empress of […]...
7. Hits and Runs I REMEMBER the Chillicothe ball players grappling the Rock Island ball players in a sixteen-inning game ended by darkness. And the shoulders of the Chillicothe players were a red smoke against the sundown and the shoulders of the Rock Island players were a yellow smoke against the sundown. And the umpire’s voice was hoarse calling […]...
8. What Shall I Do For the Land that Bred Me What shall I do for the land that bred me, Her homes and fields that folded and fed me?- Be under her banner and live for her honour: Under her banner I’ll live for her honour. CHORUS. Under her banner live for her honour. Not the pleasure, the pay, the plunder, But country and flag, […]...
9. The Battle of Atbara Ye Sons of Great Britain, pray list to me, And I’ll tell ye of a great victory. Where the British defeated the Dervishes, without delay, At the Battle of Atbara, without dismay. The attack took place, ’twas on the 8th of April, in the early morning dawn, And the British behaved manfully to a man; […]...
10. The Army of Death When you see millions of the mouthless dead Across your dreams in pale battalions go, Say not soft things as other men have said, That you’ll remember. For you need not so. Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they know It is not curses heaped on each gashed head? Nor tears. Their blind […]...
11. When You See Millions Of The Mouthless Dead When you see millions of the mouthless dead Across your dreams in pale battalions go, Say not soft things as other men have said, That you’ll remember. For you need not so. Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they know It is not curses heaped on each gashed head? Nor tears. Their blind […]...
12. Autumn: A Dirge The warm sun is falling, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth is her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying. Come, Months, come away, From November to May, In your saddest array; Follow the bier Of the dead […]...
13. Death XXVII Then Almitra spoke, saying, “We would ask now of Death.” And he said: You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed […]...
14. The Army Mules Oh the airman’s game is a showman’s game, for we all of us watch him go With his roaring soaring aeroplane and his bombs for the blokes below, Over the railways and over the dumps, over the Hun and the Turk, You’ll hear him mutter, “What ho, she bumps,” when the Archies get to work. […]...
15. The Lost Master “And when I come to die,” he said, “Ye shall not lay me out in state, Nor leave your laurels at my head, Nor cause your men of speech orate; No monument your gift shall be, No column in the Hall of Fame; But just this line ye grave for me: ‘He played the game.'” […]...
16. Sonnet 10 X Daughter to that good Earl, once President Of Englands Counsel, and her Treasury, Who liv’d in both, unstain’d with gold or fee, And left them both, more in himself content, Till the sad breaking of that Parlament Broke him, as that dishonest victory At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty Kil’d with report that Old man […]...
17. Danny Deever “What are the bugles blowin’ for?” said Files-on-Parade. “To turn you out, to turn you out”, the Colour-Sergeant said. “What makes you look so white, so white?” said Files-on-Parade. “I’m dreadin’ what I’ve got to watch”, the Colour-Sergeant said. For they’re hangin’ Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play, The regiment’s in ‘ollow […]...
18. On Climbing in Nan-king to the Terrace of Phoenixes Phoenixes that play here once, so that the place was named for them, Have abandoned it now to this desolated river; The paths of Wu Palace are crooked with weeds; The garments of Chin are ancient dust. …Like this green horizon halving the Three Peaks, Like this Island of White Egrets dividing the river, A […]...
19. Playthings Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning. I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig. I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour. Perhaps you glance at me and think, “What a stupid game to spoil […]...
20. Troopin&#039 Troopin’, troopin’, troopin’ to the sea: ‘Ere’s September come again the six-year men are free. O leave the dead be’ind us, for they cannot come away To where the ship’s a-coalin’ up that takes us ‘ome to-day. We’re goin’ ‘ome, we’re goin’ ‘ome, Our ship is at the shore, An’ you must pack your ‘aversack, […]...
21. Little Viennese Waltz In Vienna there are ten little girls, A shoulder for death to cry on, And a forest of dried pigeons. There is a fragment of tomorrow In the museum of winter frost. There is a thousand-windowed dance hall. Ay, ay, ay, ay! Take this close-mouthed waltz. Little waltz, little waltz, little waltz, Of itself of […]...
22. The Blood-Red Fourragere What was the blackest sight to me Of all that campaign? A naked woman tied to a tree With jagged holes where her breasts should be, Rotting there in the rain. On we pressed to the battle fray, Dogged and dour and spent. Sudden I heard my Captain say: “Voilà! Kultur has passed this way, […]...
23. Mohammed Bek Hadjetlache THIS Mohammedan colonel from the Caucasus yells with his voice and wigwags with his arms. The interpreter translates, “I was a friend of Kornilov, he asks me what to do and I tell him. ” A stub of a man, this Mohammedan colonel … a projectile shape … a bald head hammered … ВЂњDoes he […]...
24. Puritans Sidling upon the river, the white boat Has volleyed with its cannon all the morning, Shaken the shore towns like a Judgment warning, Telling the palsied water its demand That the crime come to the top again, and float, That the sunk murder rise to the light and land. Blam! In the noon’s perfected brilliance […]...
25. The Fool “But it isn’t playing the game,” he said, And he slammed his books away; “The Latin and Greek I’ve got in my head Will do for a duller day.” “Rubbish!” I cried; “The bugle’s call Isn’t for lads from school.” D’ye think he’d listen? Oh, not at all: So I called him a fool, a […]...
26. Dream Song 42: O journeyer, deaf in the mould, insane O journeyer, deaf in the mould, insane With violent travel & death: consider me In my cast, your first son. Would you were I by now another one, Witted, legged? I see you before me plain (I am skilled: I hear, I see)— Your honour was troubled: when you wondered—‘No’. I hear. I think I […]...
27. 1861 AARM’D year! year of the struggle! No dainty rhymes or sentimental love verses for you, terrible year! Not you as some pale poetling, seated at a desk, lisping cadenzas piano; But as a strong man, erect, clothed in blue clothes, advancing, carrying a rifle on your shoulder, With well-gristled body and sunburnt face and hands-with […]...
28. The First Grenadier of France ‘Twas in a certain regiment of French Grenadiers, A touching and beautiful custom was observed many years; Which was meant to commemorate the heroism of a departed comrade, And when the companies assembled for parade, There was one name at roll call to which no answer was made It was that of the noble La […]...
29. Beautiful Balmoral Ye lovers of the picturesque, away and see Beautiful Balmoral, near by the River Dee; There ye will see the deer browsing on the heathery hills, While adown their sides run clear sparkling rills. Which the traveller can drink of when he feels dry, And admire the dark River Dee near by, Rolling smoothly and […]...
30. The Smoking Frog Three men I saw beside a bar, Regarding o’er their bottle, A frog who smoked a rank cigar They’d jammed within its throttle. A Pasha frog it must have been So big it as and bloated; And from its lips the nicotine In graceful festoon floated. And while the trio jeered and joked, As if […]...
31. The river at whitebrook the winding wye Curls into my senses Feliniously There’s no such word But no such river Merely exists Where this river slivers Between the dream And the time i camped by it Has left a furmark On my inward skin It takes only a wet thought For hunchbacked woods And a drift of mist Lifting […]...
32. Sonnet 08 VIII Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms, Whose chance on these defenceless dores may sease, If ever deed of honour did thee please, Guard them, and him within protect from harms, He can requite thee, for he knows the charms That call Fame on such gentle acts as these, And he can spred thy […]...
33. The River Of Rivers In Connecticut There is a great river this side of Stygia Before one comes to the first black cataracts And trees that lack the intelligence of trees. In that river, far this side of Stygia, The mere flowing of the water is a gayety, Flashing and flashing in the sun. On its banks, No shadow walks. The […]...
34. The Mower The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found A hedgehog jammed up against the blades, Killed. It had been in the long grass. I had seen it before, and even fed it, once. Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world Unmendably. Burial was no help: Next morning I got up and it did not. The first […]...
35. The Child on the Curbstone The headlights raced; the moon, death-faced, Stared down on that golden river. I saw through the smoke the scarlet cloak Of a boy who could not shiver. His father’s hand forced him to stand, The traffic thundered slaughter; One foot he thrust in the whirling dust As it were running water. As in a dream […]...
36. The Art Of Poetry To gaze at a river made of time and water And remember Time is another river. To know we stray like a river And our faces vanish like water. To feel that waking is another dream That dreams of not dreaming and that the death We fear in our bones is the death That every […]...
37. Elegy Too proud to die; broken and blind he died The darkest way, and did not turn away, A cold kind man brave in his narrow pride On that darkest day. Oh, forever may He lie lightly, at last, on the last, crossed Hill, under the grass, in love, and there grow Young among the long […]...
38. The Man from Goondiwindi, Q I This is the sunburnt bushman who Came down from Goondiwindi, Q. II This is the Push from Waterloo That spotted the sunburnt bushman who Came down from Goondiwindi, Q. III These are the wealthy uncles two, Part of the Push from Waterloo That spotted the sunburnt bushman who Came down from Goondiwindi, Q. IV […]...
39. For the Union Dead “Relinquunt Omnia Servare Rem Publicam.” The old South Boston Aquarium stands In a Sahara of snow now. Its broken windows are boarded. The bronze weathervane cod has lost half its scales. The airy tanks are dry. Once my nose crawled like a snail on the glass; My hand tingled To burst the bubbles Drifting from […]...
40. Smoke Rose Gold THE DOME of the capitol looks to the Potomac river. Out of haze over the sunset, Out of a smoke rose gold: One star shines over the sunset. Night takes the dome and the river, the sun and the smoke rose gold, The haze changes from sunset to star. The pour of a thin silver […]...